


Lessons on Forgetting

by feetheimpossiblegrl



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I know the boys technically share a room but for narrative purpose I changed it, acts of service, and what better way to hurt than thinking about Lup?, author took some liberties with canon, but I couldn't do that without making us all hurt, you get all of this because I wanted Kravitz to wash Taako's hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feetheimpossiblegrl/pseuds/feetheimpossiblegrl
Summary: Taako has always hated his birthday, he's not sure why. The attention should feed him, he deserves it after all. It's just that something is missing, something is always missing and it makes facing the day feel impossible.
Relationships: Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides & Taako, Merle Highchurch & Taako
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	Lessons on Forgetting

“Do you ever find yourself missing somebody you don’t even know?” The words slip from Taako’s mouth before he has time to think about them.

He’s unsure of why they do. What causes him to voice the thought that trickles through his head, leisurely like water in a stream. It’s not that he’s overcome with grief or beside himself with loss. He doesn’t even know who he misses.

He just knows that standing here, in the little galley kitchen of the suite he shares with Mags and Merle he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. A comforting presence that usually stands just to his side, working around him in harmony as he- they?— cook a meal fit for the gods.

Taako shakes his head— willing the intrusive sadness away, and flips the eggs he’s cooking. It’s just him, he thinks. It’s always been just Taako.

“I—“ Taako jumps, causing Magnus to startle and jump as well.

He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone, smiling sheepishly he apologizes before gesturing with the spatula in his hand for Magnus to continue.

“I don’t think I did,” Magnus starts, topping the bread Taako had baked the other day with a small portion of butter and honey. “At least, not until I met you and Merle. It’s like… it’s like our friendship makes so much sense that there should be…” Magnus trailed off obviously at a loss for words.

“Like there should be more of it.” Merle offered. Struggling onto the bar stool that sat by the counter. “Feels like we’ve known each other a couple of decades at least, like there should be more than just the three of us.”

Taako nods, glad that Merle walked in at the perfect time, the eggs are done. He slides them onto a plate next to some sliced apple and cucumber before placing it in front of the dwarf. Something about the fact that Magnus and Merle get it, understand so well what he's experiencing both reassures and scares him.

He’s not sure what that means.

* * *

Here’s the thing— it’s been like this for as long as Taako can clearly remember. Trying to look too far back always gets a little staticky for him. But for as long as he can recall he’s loathed his birthday.

But it’s more than that. He doesn’t just loathe his birthday. He doesn’t care about growing older, he still looks good he knows that he just… has never felt right on his birthday. It’s that same suffocating feeling of knowing that things should be different, but not sure how they should be different. Like his entire world is a blurry fantasy polaroid that gives him a headache if he looks at it too long. It’s all just slightly off-kilter. If possible Taako would assume somebody just walked into his brain, moved all of his memories a quarter-inch to the left so that nothing appeared wrong, but it also wasn’t correct.

So when the dawning realization that his birthday is approaching settles into Taako’s sleep muddled brain one morning he isn’t overcome with joy, or with sadness. But with a rather distressing nothingness. He can’t escape the feeling that there should be somebody here, with him, celebrating. He always feels like somebody should be with him, just to his side. He tries to ignore it, he makes light of the fact that he feels like he’s always walking around just this side of properly put together, throwing an elbow into an invisible side after he tells a joke, moving around a nonexistent body in the kitchen.

For what seems like forever Taako’s been working with what feels like half of his brain and all of his heart missing.

And that’s just the crux of it, Taako finally admits to himself. He’s felt like half an elf since he woke up at a lonely campsite with nothing more than a wagon, a kitchen, and a dream. Even when hosting the show with Sazed it didn’t feel right. Having somebody in the kitchen with him helped some, but it didn’t erase that sharp, pin needle feeling that constantly poked at the back of Taako’s brain, always screaming “wrong, wrong, wrong”.

So he falls into the same routine that he has for the last ten, eleven years. He grabs all of his favorite snacks, bakes more cookies than one elf of his size could consume, and returns to his room, locking the door behind him before settling into the most comfortable cocoon he can.

He can’t shut off his brain, can’t stop his heart from clenching around the knowledge that something— someone he loves more than life itself— isn’t where he needs them to be. Isn’t right next to him during this time he is so certain that should be shared. He can’t stop that line of thinking, can’t numb out the ache in his chest that moves down his arms and makes his fingers tingle. But he can do what he’s done every year previously. He can hole up, pretend the world and whoever he misses don’t exist. Because one of those things doesn’t. He can pointedly ignore that little blemish in his brain that tells him there’s more, he can stop poking and digging at it because the more he touches it the more that static settles into his head.

So Taako silences his stone of farspeech, turns Fantasy Chopped on his fantasy television, and pretends that everything is fine.

* * *

Taako thinks it’s been two days. He’s left his cocoon of safety only enough times to grab more food and snack and, uh, take care of bodily functions. He hasn’t interacted with his roommates though. Because that implies that there were people who exist outside of him. People who understand and relate to 'the static and the missing somebody who doesn’t exist’ experience. Taako just can’t handle that right now. So he times his trips out of his room perfectly, sulking around like a criminal.

He returns from one such trip, water canteen filled and Maggie’s leftover curry in hand, with a heavy heart as he locks the door and sighs. One day this won’t work, he thinks to himself. One day he will have to face the static and stare into the unknown. That’s what causes him the most unrest, that fact that he cannot truly avoid it forever.

He’s leaning against the door, the cool wood flush against his back, the grain just rough enough to be felt through the soft silk of the pajama top he’s wearing, when he hears a knock on the door.

It’s just three little raps, but it sends his heart into overdrive as it tumbles off a cliff and into his belly. He doesn’t want to talk to anybody right now. He’s not even sure he can. But he especially doesn’t want to talk to Magnus or Merle. Doesn’t want to fess up to how he’s feeling, get all gushy and emotional. He doesn’t want to see Maggie’s huge brown eyes, full of love and understanding as he nods and listens. He doesn’t want to feel Merle’s arms hugging tight around his legs. He wants to do what he’s always done. Just pretend nothing is real until his birthday passes and he can say he’s survived another year.

He doesn’t mean to start crying, it’s not something he’s ever done before. He’s always just been comfortably emotionally numb for however long it takes.

But the sincerity in Magnus’s voice, the honest love, and care as he speaks is what ends up sending Taako toppling over the edge.

“Hey, Taako… I know… well, I don’t know, I guess that’s kind of the point. I don’t know, but you don’t have to be alone. We care about you— we just,” Magnus pauses, the noise of a soft thump reverberates down the wood and into Taako’s spine as Magnus lets his head fall against it. “We miss you, and we are here for you. You don’t have to be alone.”

A moment passes between them, two men separated by a piece of wood Magnus could easily tear though if he wanted too— he had before. But he lets Taako have his space, and Taako appreciates that.

He hears Magnus sigh, can practically see it in his head— the movement of his shoulders, the way they’ll sag just slightly more, like the weight of the world sits on his shoulders until he can make sure his friend is better, the wrinkle that will form between his brows as he takes a step back from the door, frown deep-set in his features— he’s seen it before, maybe not yet a thousand times, but it feels like he’s seen it a thousand times.

Because it feels like they’d known each other so much longer than just the months that they’ve had recently.

“You’re not alone Taako, we all feel it,” Magnus repeats, voice soft— almost pleading. Before Taako hears his retreating steps.

He sits there a moment longer, dwelling on Magnus's words. For the first time, he believes them a little bit, he's not as alone as he had been.

* * *

He’s approximately seven days into his week of disgusting when Merle walks up to the door. Taako had just been considering slipping from his room and rummaging the kitchen for whatever might please the growing discontent in his stomach. He wants to laugh when Merle’s voice comes drifting through the door, the timing is impeccable.

“Hi, uh, Taako, it’s Merle.”

Taako smiles at this, an amused huff exiting his boy with a surprising force, it’s how Merle answers his stone of farspeech too. He does everything like your 70-year-old grandpa, and Taako isn’t quite sure that Merle is older than him. Which makes it just that much funnier. The laugh stops in his throat, turning to a choked sob when he hears Merle place something by the door. Whatever it smells so good.

“The kid, Magnus, and I made it. We, uh, we know they’re some of your favorites. Probably not as good as if you made them, but hopefully good enough.”

Tears stream down Taako’s face, huge droplets of water that feel like they weigh a ton and avalanche through Taako’s emotions one by one. He curls tighter into his cocoon. There is safety under the blankets, right? Yes, there is safety under the blankets.

He hears an awkward cough through the door, and just like with Magnus he can see it in his head clear as day. The way he brings his left hand up runs it through his hair real quick before adjusting his glasses and coughing into that hand.

Because even though large portions of his past are covered in t.v. static so acute and intense that poking at the problem gives him migraines so bad he throws up he knows, he is certain that they’ve done this before, that he’s seen Merle go through that exact set of actions no less than a thousand times before. In a different life maybe.

“You’re, uh, you’re not alone, kid,” Merle offers before the sound of his retreating footsteps is left echoing in Taako’s ears.

When it sounds like Merle is a safe distance away Taako moves to the door, sliding it open enough to locate the plate of food and a new canteen of water Merle had placed at the door for him. He moves quickly, retrieving his prize and retreating into the safety of his locked room and the cocoon of his bed before checking to see what he was given.

It's a plate of food, a mixture of dried goods that will last a few days, but also a piping hot serving of Taako's favorite chicken tortilla soup. On the side sits a small collection of macarons. It's put together so thoughtfully Taako stops, fully and begins to cry again, a renewed vigor in the action as he looks at an elderberry macaroon that looks like it might have been made by Angus, a happy face of powdered sugar is dusted over the top.

The tears keep coming, and even though he knows he shouldn’t, even though he made it a rule so many years ago, Taako pokes at that spot. Flinching at the loud static that covers his head for a minute before settling down again.

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps poking, prodding, hitting and kicking because he’s tired of mourning forever for a person with no name and no face. He’s tired of knowing that there is so much more but not having access to it even though it was right there in his head. He wants to know who he misses. He needs to know where his heart is.

He’s having trouble believing that this year will be like last year, he’s not sure that he will be able to just pick up and pretend for another year.

* * *

It’s been ten days since Taako’s last shower, and even longer since the last time he’s washed his hair. At the beginning of his… whatever this is, he tried to brush it and keep it nice, but eventually, he just threw it into a messy bun and left it. He’s regretting that now. Regretting letting himself sit and wallow in this unknowable sadness that surrounds him every year. It’s just… so hard to take care of himself when the static is sitting in his head just behind his eyes and heavy on his shoulders, so heavy he can hardly walk, and the pain behind his eyes is so intense he doesn’t want to open them.

But this is the longest it’s lasted, he’s never been like this for longer than seven days before. During a good year, it’s only three days. During a bad year seven days, right toeing the line of eight.

For him to still be surrounded by static, so actively mourning for this person he doesn’t know, to still be pushing at this static that fills his brain so much it threatens to pour out of his ears and over his mouth like some long-forgotten geyser. Is unusual. The change fills him with fear because he can't understand why things are different now.

He tries to get up, to sit and move and get something done, but he can’t. His eyes gloss over the Fantasy T.V., some medical drama is on. The woman on the screen is an elf. She's beautiful and has a familiar kind of energy. She says something and laughs a full laugh— head thrown back. She reminds Taako of somebody, he isn’t sure why. She looks so much like him she could be his sister, but he’s never had a sibling.

It’s always been just Taako.

But even those thoughts, simple and harmless cause his head to explode. The static filling it so loud and so heavy that tears burst from his eyes, a piercing sob clawing it’s way up his throat and burning at his lips as he fights for the energy to turn the t.v. off.

Taako cries until he can’t cry anymore, he cries until the static fades back into that little place at the back of his memory and he can fall into a deep, black sleep.

* * *

The last person Taako expects to just appear in his room is Kravitz, if he’s being honest. They’ve been dating for a couple of months. Krav is head over heels, ‘natch of course, but Taako didn’t think that love would extend quite this far.

Looking at the state of the room around him, and imagining how he must look, he honestly wishes it didn’t.

But that’s what happens, Taako has kind of lost track of days, but he thinks it’s 14. He really didn’t think he would be trapped in his room this long, he thought he would overcome it or that a relic would be found and he would have no choice but to overcome it.

But none of those things happened, so day after day passed and eventually, they began melting one into the other.

Taako is busy staring at the white wall when the dimensional portal opens, a swirling, blue-black darkness presents itself as Kravitz steps through.

He’s immaculate as always, Taako’s heart skips a beat as he watches Krav step through the portal. Scythe first, the hand attached a beautiful deep brown skin tone, then one leg, then the next, and finally the last portion of his torso. Taako looks at the beautiful man, watches in awe as the skull that overlays half of his face, moving from the top left, over his right eye and down, slowly fades away. Leaving only Krav’s honest eyes.

“Sorry to come over but you haven’t been answering your stone of far—“ Kravitz’s words are choked off as he takes in the state of the room, eyes widening. “Babe, are you okay?”

And honestly, that was just a cherry on top, because Taako wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting the look of concern that weighed itself deep into Kravitz’s features. Taako had been gripped with fear from the moment the portal opened. A vice of shame around his heart.

He’s going to see the mess you are and step right back through that portal, leaving you for good.

Or.

You’ll have to tell him about the static and he’ll think you’re crazy, which gives you just a few more moments of his company before he opens the portal and leaves.

Taako’s heart beats a tad faster, he's glad Kravitz asked if he's okay, that means it's the second one.

“Oh,” Taako’s laugh is distressingly forced. “Yeah, ‘cha boys doing just fine.” He waves a hand through the air, feigning nonchalance.

“I just, uh, I was worried. It’s been a little over two weeks since the last time we spoke.”

Kravitz picks his way through the room, sitting gingerly on the edge of Taako’s bed. Were those… crumbs?

Oh, Istus.

The quiet stretches, Taako doesn’t know what else to say, what to say outside of ‘I’m fine, everything’s fine, I’ll be okay, I always am. If I ignore the problem it will go away right?’ But that won’t work, because he’s tried but he doesn’t think he’s going to be fine anymore. He thinks that if he continues down this path he’ll never quite get better but if he doesn’t get better will he ever find out who is missing? That person that sits just at the edge of his vision, filling his periphery with hope and love.

It’s that thought that drives him to speak, a snowball of fear that nothing will get better if he doesn’t take action in making sure that it does.

“Do you ever miss somebody who doesn’t exist? Like… a person that sits just outside your vision, you can kind of feel their presence right there, but if you turn your head to look... they’re gone?” Taako picks at that spot in his head and the static flares up for a moment, painful and harsh before he steps back. “Well, I guess turning my head hurts.”

Kravitz shakes his head, dreads tumbling softly over his shoulders as he does so.

“No, babe, I can’t say I have.”

“It’s like. Something very important was taken from me. But I don’t know what it was. I just know that it made my life better. And if I try to think about it too hard, my head explodes into this painful static. But… my heart, my heart hurts.”

Taako pulls the ribbon from his hair, causing oily strands to fall around him, he tries to run his fingers through it, but it catches on knot after knot. He winces, something Kravitz notices.

“That… that sounds like a lot, babe,” Kravitz offers. A thoughtful hand worrying the sharp end of his scythe before he wills it away. “I can’t say I’ve heard of something like that before. But, I think we should look into it. The Raven Queen has an extensive collection of books. When I leave here I’ll begin looking through them. I’ll also inquire with her if I have your permission?”

Taako is, once again, taken aback. He’s always shocked by the selfless depths of the man he’s falling in love with. He thought Kravitz would see all of this, would hear his words, turn tail, and run. Never looking back, never giving a second thought to the elf man with so much baggage.

He should have known better.

“T-Taako?”

Kravitz’s voice jerks Taako back to the moment, reminding him that something is happening.

“Oh, uhm, yes. Actually. That would be… it would be so amazing. Mags and Merle, they get it. And I’m not sure what that means. Does it mean anything? Does it mean everything? Are we all just crazy?”

Kravitz shakes his head, shrugging softly as he carefully picks his words before opening his mouth.

“No, Taako. I don’t think you’re crazy, not at all. I do think it means something that Magnus and Merle have similar experiences though.”

They sit for a moment, thoughts that will remain unsaid hanging heavy in the air. Taako begins fiddling with his hair. He needs a shower, desperately, he needs hot water to pound into his skin and to take care of his hair. He hadn’t realized how bad he was getting until now. Until he is face to face with Kravitz. Somebody who is seeing him at his worst and still hasn’t decided this is too much, or too scary.

“I, uh, once a year around my birthday it gets really bad. And I can’t… I don’t…” his voice trails off, filled with pain and discomfort as he tries to find the words to describe the struggle that’s been inside of him for so long. “It’s like. During this time it’s so much worse. I can’t help but poke at that feeling in my brain, the knowledge that isn’t my knowledge because it’s been taken from me. It’s like, during this time I know she should be with me, and I miss her more than I do any other time of the year.”

Kravitz stiffens next to Taako, a strange look on his face.

“Her? If you can’t remember how do you know that this person is a her?”

Taako shrugs, unease in his stomach. He’d never said very much out loud about his struggle until today, but the moment he started talking he knew.

“I just… I do? I can’t see or remember anything about her. But when I started talking to you, I realized that whoever it is... it’s a she, and she’s important to me.”

Kravitz nods, wincing as he watches Taako try to rake his fingers through his hair again.

“Taako, can I help you with that?”

The switch is such a strong change of topic that Taako gets whiplash and he freezes, fingers stuck in his hair. Or maybe they're still stuck because his hair is just that tangled.

“I’m sorry?”

“Taako, obviously you’re having a hard time. Our relationship is still new, but I think I know you well enough to know that this isn't you, this isn't normal for you. I can sense your anxiety, but deeper than that I can sense your sadness. Let me help you in this small way. Please.”

Taako’s dumbfounded. It’s not the first time Krav has left him speechless and he’s sure it’s won’t be the last time. He looks across his room, usually cluttered and messy but in a state of chaotic disarray at current. He looks at the silken top he’s been wearing for Istus only knows how long now, the loose pants that are sliding off his frame now. He’s lost weight.

Taako only nods, still too dumbfounded for words. Kravitz gives a curt, polite nod in response before he starts puttering around the room. Taako watches, mouth hanging just slightly open as Krav grabs his favorite bath salts and oils, the shampoo and conditioner he uses for his hair, Taako’s favorite candle. He slides the lock of Taako’s door, opening it as quietly as he can. A moment later Taako hears the shower start.

Within minutes Krav reenters Taako’s room, shedding the suit jacket he’s wearing and rolling up the black sleeves of his shirt, he removes his tie and smiles.

Taako can’t get enough of that smile, how it’s always a little cautious like he isn’t sure if it’s okay. The way his eyes crinkle around the sides. Everything Kravitz does is sincere and full of meaning, smiling is just the same.

He holds a hand out to Taako, helping the stiff elf out of the bed. The walk to the bathroom is short, nine and a half steps exactly. But it feels forever long for Taako at that moment. The shame is radiating off him in waves, he can’t believe he let himself get this bad. And still, even though he’s up and moving and trying to erase how disgusting he feels a voice urges him back to bed, telling him that it’s too soon. If the Bureau doesn’t need him he can stay in his nest of filth and stare at that spot on the wall that doesn’t make his head descend into static. Taako fights it. Puts one foot in front of the other nine and a half times, until he enters the bathroom and Krav leads him to the shower.

The shower is running, and the bath on the other side is set up. Taako understands immediately what Kravitz has done and his heart can’t help but do a couple of backflips, knocking him back a step.

“Take a shower, love, don’t worry about your hair. I’ll help you with that when you get in the bath, okay? I’m going to step out, give you a little privacy, call me when you’re in the bath.”

And isn’t that just like Krav? They’re dating, he’s run Taako a bath, made sure the shower was the perfect temperature, and lets him have privacy to do what he needs to do. The itch of the static in the back of his head fades a little when he steps into the shower. The hot water beats into his skin, he sighs before reaching for a towel and the soap.

It doesn’t take him long to wash down, what takes time is him feeling clean. That takes a little longer. Fifteen minutes of scrubbing, rinsing, and repeating later he steps out of the shower and beelines for the tub. He’s worried for a minute that it’s going to have gotten cold, but it’s the thought that counts so he steps in, quickly sinking up to his chin.

But it’s so warm, the cold dash to the tub is erased from his memory. Oh, Taako thinks, thank Istus for Kravitz and prestidigitation, the water is still warm. He takes a moment to breathe in the smells. The mixture of his favorite candle with the bath oils and salts that Krav assembled for him. It’s all so perfect, and at the moment after he calls to let Krav know he’s in the tub he starts to cry.

It’s nothing intense, no gut-wrenching sobs, he isn’t gasping for air. There are just tears, streaming freely and openly down his cheeks.

That’s the scene that Kravitz walks in on. Tears streaming down Taako’s face as he sits in the tub, legs pulled to his chest, head on his knees. He’s desperately trying to not pick at that staticky spot in his head because he knows that it will just make everything worse. Taako is overcome with a need though, an irresistible need that starts deep within his toes and works it’s way up his legs, tingling and gnawing as it goes. He’s so tired of this. This ache deep in his heart that circles around him all the time but is especially bad during this time of year. But poking at the spot, egging on that monster in his head, proves as futile as it always has. The space behind his eyes explodes into a painful gray haze of static as the tears return to his eyes, pouring over with renewed vigor.

He sobs, a choked, stressed sound. Moving away from the part of his memories that are cut off from him.

Kravitz’s hand is gentle, cold, and grounding as Taako focuses on the small circle of cool that radiates out from the shoulder it rests on. Encircling him in a sensation of calm as he tries to remind himself, he’s not in this alone.

He doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

“Babe, I’m going to wash your hair now, is that okay?”

Taako nods, exhaustion working its way through his body.

Kravitz hums, sitting on the side of the tub. It’s silent for a moment, causing Taako to look over. His eyes catch Kravitz’s in a soft smile, he watches the man roll up his sleeves, cuffing them just above the elbow.

“Lean your head back for me as much as is comfortable,” Kravitz orders, grabbing the bottle of shampoo.

Taako does a step better and uses shape water to form the water around him into a type of chair, so he can lean his head over the edge, giving Krav a little more room to work with. He’s pleased to hear an amused huff from Kravitz, before feeling the man shift behind him, legs sliding into the portion of the tub that’s no longer full of water.

Krav is… gentle, with Taako’s hair. And he sings while his fingers work their way through the knots. Soft lyrical words that fall in time with the way his hands move, delicately removing the knots that he can. Taako sighs, leaning into Kravitz’s touch. It’s been a long time since somebody’s taken care of him like this.

Static raises unbidden to the front of his head, he’s pushing without even trying right now. But in this moment, with Krav, it’s easy for him to take a step back. He stops tearing at that spot. A smile comes to Taako’s lips, he’s thankful that whoever she was used to wash his hair, used to help him when he needed it. He’s going to focus on that for now, not the way that his heart drops knowing that she’s still cut off from him.

Before he knows it, Krav is rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

The aromatic scent fades with each passing second. Kravitz’s fingers leave his head, and though his hands are cold— the chill of death lingering on his fingertips even though he is so alive to Taako— Taako feels a chill sink in as they leave.

It’s only a moment before Taako hears the sound of a lid being removed and he’s immersed in the calming scent of his conditioner. If Krav’s touch was gentle to start it’s only just ghosting through his hair now. Deft fingers moving across his scalp in little circles as Taako’s limbs relax and he feels himself melting down to nearly nothing.

All the while Kravitz sings, his voice lilting and lyrical, a salve over that spot in Taako’s mind that isn’t his anymore. He pulls out a comb, letting the conditioner help him work through some of the worse knots. It’s an arduous task, but not an impossible one. Taako routinely forgets how long and thick his hair is. It’s all too easy to remember now, head hanging over the side of his makeshift chair, the fingers of another working through the long strands methodically.

It takes a while for all the knots to be gone, combed through, leaving his hair smooth as silk and shinning. It takes a minute, but it also moves too quickly. Kravitz is washing the conditioner from his hair and his hands are gone, leaving Taako feeling bereft.

“Ta-Taako, I’m going to hand you a towel. There are new pajamas on the counter for you, okay?”

A few soft steps and Kravitz is out the door, leaving Taako to himself. The towel Kravitz handed him is warm, because he just thinks of everything. That doesn’t stop Taako from quickly drying himself and slipping into the fresh, clean pajamas. They smell heavenly, he hadn’t known until now just how gross he had gotten. He’s hesitant to crawl back into his bed, the depression of the last 14 days stuck in the sheets.

He opens the door, moving to step out of the bathroom and to the linen closet. He’s intercepted by Kravitz with one of the stools from their kitchen.

“Oh, you got dressed quickly,” Kravitz states, herding Taako back into the bathroom. “Sit.”

Kravitz’s voice is soft yet authoritative, leaving no room for discussion or disagreement. So Taako does, he plops his behind in the chair and looks at his reflection in the mirror. Kravitz drapes a towel over Taako’s shoulders.

“I’m going to do your hair now,” Kravitz explains, already casting prestidigitation.

Taako smiles, the air around him warming enough to dry his hair in seconds. As soon as his hair is dry the same deft fingers begin working oils through it. Starting at his scalp, the same soothing circles before raking through his hair, gently making sure not to pull too hard on anything.

Taako sighs, for the first time in the last few days he feels alive and breathing and happy. The spot in the back of his mind is still there, still a staticky haze of upset that hangs over him. But he’s not as tempted to pick at it, to rub his hands over the book of information he’s not allowed to have and steal it back for himself.

He allows himself to feel, here in this moment with Kravitz working his hair into a soft plait down his back, complete in a way he hasn’t in a minute. The things that he no longer has access to, the unknowable pain that hangs over him like a hundred-pound anvil over his head waiting to fall at the worst possible moment. Those things can hurt him, do hurt him, yes. But with Kravitz’s soft song floating in the air, and Merle and Magnus poking their head around the corner, pretending they can’t be seen the anvil isn’t as daunting. That itchy unknown isn’t quite as strong, and the need to hide fades.

He knows he’s not alone, and for right now that means something. That's a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hopefully if you made it this far you enjoyed it!  
> If that's the case please leave a comment or kudos!  
> If you want to chat and discuss TAZ you can find me on Tumblr @fenvincible!  
> Thank you again, I know I took some liberties with the shows canon and with dnd magic, so I appreciate you bearing with me.


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